


By My Side

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Hunting Trip [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Moresomes, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur have reached a new understanding, but Arthur’s old friends don’t want to be left out…</p>
            </blockquote>





	By My Side

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this fic was rather innocent for me - which was nice, but then I felt compelled to add some porn into the mix… Which is probably not so unexpected, really. 
> 
> This is for my friend ravenflight21, who does this kind of thing so well. ♥

♦

By the time he has caught up with Merlin and wrestled him down to the ground, and struggled with him in a half–laughing half–serious game of _who’ll submit to whom_ – by the time Arthur is lying atop a happily moaning but not quite surrendered Merlin, lying between Merlin’s thighs and pushing his tunic up so that Arthur can mouth at his narrow pale belly, lick his way up the undulations of his ribs, gnaw at his nipple – by that time Arthur is far too hungry to care about sophistication, and he simply ruts against Merlin, matching hardness to hardness, and the sensation is shockingly vibrant despite their britches and linens still being firmly in place. ‘Merlin… _Merlin_ , damn you…’

‘Arthur,’ the young man panted, his hands spread against Arthur’s chest with pressure _almost_ enough to push, but then clutching fistfuls of Arthur’s shirt, as if even now unsure whether to shove the prince away or drag him closer still. _‘Arthur!’_

And then suddenly they were done, as if they’d been nothing more than two frantic boys – except the results, oh the results, the glorious responses they shared were those of seasoned men. Arthur made it last, his throat ragged with a low groan, maintaining the rhythm though moving gentler now – until at last Merlin squirmed beneath him – and it was suddenly too much, _too much_ , so he quieted and lay there breathless over his unwanted man servant.

‘Does that count as three things?’ Merlin eventually asked. And though his tone was just a shade this side of insolence, his hands ran soothingly over Arthur’s shoulders, his hair, and a thumb caressed Arthur’s cheekbone in an echo of how Arthur had touched Merlin.

‘What?’

‘Three things that I’m good at. Does that count?’

Arthur considered this. ‘No, I think this falls into the same category as kissing.’

‘And I’m good at kissing.’

He’d already acknowledged as much. ‘Yes,’ he said, as if it were so very tiresome to be forced to repeat himself.

Merlin grinned up at him, cheeky and infuriating and delightful. ‘I think I’m gonna stay on. As your servant, I mean.’

‘Oh do you?’ Arthur let out a low laugh, and collapsed onto his back at Merlin’s side. ‘Obviously you don’t realise that it’s entirely up to me whether you stay or go. It’s not your decision.’

‘I think you’re gonna keep me on,’ Merlin immediately announced with complete confidence.

Which was true, of course, but Arthur wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a confirmation.

‘Um… Arthur.’ He suddenly sounded worried, though surely Merlin wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t read what was happening here. _‘Arthur…’_ he breathed.

‘What?’ he responded irritably. ‘You know very well I’m keeping you on. I don’t see why you suddenly need me to say it. You really can be such a girl sometimes, Merlin!’

‘No, Arthur, it’s not that…’

Arthur lifted his head, and followed Merlin’s gaze… and saw his knights, his hunting party all standing there in a loose semicircle. Watching them, looking at him and Merlin with intrigued hungry gazes. And as Arthur watched, the knights slowly advanced on the pair, taking one more step and obviously poised to take the next. It seemed clear that they’d witnessed Arthur coupling with Merlin – it was just as clear that they now wanted some of that for themselves.

‘Get up,’ Arthur said under his breath to Merlin – standing himself, and dragging Merlin up with a hand grasping his shoulder. Pushing Merlin behind him. Arthur stood tall, and summoned all his authority. ‘Stay back,’ he advised the knights. ‘This man is under my protection.’

‘Arthur…’ Merlin murmured, sounding worried.

‘Be quiet, Merlin. It’ll be all right.’ But the knights were still slowly advancing. Arthur announced, ‘Merlin may have allowed me to take liberties, but that doesn’t make him available to all and sundry.’

_‘Arthur.’_

‘Shut _up_ , Merlin.’ Arthur didn’t want to back away, but he was almost forced to – the knights were close enough now that he would barely have room or time to draw his sword if someone made an untoward move. ‘Have you forgotten yourselves?’ Arthur asked. ‘What of the code you have sworn by? What of your sense of chivalry?’

Their mouths were hungry and their eyes unashamed.

‘Arthur – actually I don’t think it’s _me_ they’re wanting.’

Everything and everyone paused.

Arthur looked around at his friends again. And it was true – they were all gazing at Arthur, and not as an obstacle but as a goal. Except for… except for Bedivere. Who shrugged a little when Arthur pinned him with a quizzical look, and admitted, ‘ _I_ want you, Merlin.’

‘Oh,’ said Merlin. ‘Um. Thank you?’

‘Now, _look_ ,’ Arthur started with great authority. Except that he really wasn’t quite sure where to go next. If he could tell the truth, he’d say something like, _Obviously this would all be very welcome on any other night, but I seem to be in the throes of falling in love with my good–for–nothing man servant, so if you’ll kindly excuse me…_

Or maybe, _I was belatedly learning how to skim stones not half an hour ago, so you fellows will understand if I’m not quite in the right frame of mind for an orgy just now…_

Or…

Sir Pellinore was on his knees at Arthur’s feet, taking Arthur’s right hand in both of his, and pressing a kiss to the back of it, then to the palm. ‘Sire…’ he sighed, before sitting back on his heels with his thighs wide, and gazing up at Arthur with a passionately imploring look. ‘Sire, let us take care of you… as Merlin does.’

_As he **does**?_ Had everyone been assuming that they were already…? ‘Merlin?’ Arthur glanced back over his shoulder.

Merlin shrugged, and his mouth had a slightly sour twist to one corner, but he murmured easily enough, ‘Go ahead, if you want to. I’ll still be here when you’re done.’

‘I wasn’t asking permission,’ Arthur muttered.

‘Do what you will, then.’ With a fine pretence at carelessness.

Arthur pulled his hand out of Pellinore’s grasp, and turned to Merlin, took that intriguing face in both hands, and pressed a kiss to his mouth. A kiss that soon became ardent. ‘Idiot,’ he said when he was done.

‘Prat,’ Merlin immediately responded. And after a moment they shared a genuine grin – before Bedivere was drawing Merlin away, Merlin’s smile turning wistful – and Pellinore was reaching again to press kisses to Arthur’s palm, to lick across his wrist. Arthur hissed a breath, and surrendered.

♦

Twelve hands undressing him, stroking his skin as it was revealed, six mouths following after, licking and sucking and biting – daring to mark him, leaving light bruises against the palest parts of him, and thank heavens he wouldn’t have to explain them to anyone but Merlin. Merlin who sat relaxed between Bedivere’s thighs, leaning back against the young knight with Bedivere’s arms circling his waist – accepting Bedivere’s caresses, his kisses, but watching, all the time watching Arthur being undressed and unravelled by his knights. ‘Merlin,’ Arthur found he’d murmured once he was finally naked, the only one naked of all of them – but no one paused in their attentions, and that enigmatic blue gaze met his own unwavering. ‘Merlin…’

Then Dinadan who’d been mouthing up the long pulse in Arthur’s throat reached the tender spot just behind Arthur’s ear, and he shuddered, even as another man – Arthur managed to twist enough to glance down to see Ryance’s thick silvery–dark hair – even as Ryance suddenly took the head of Arthur’s cock into his mouth and swathed it with his tongue. A hand pushed in to grasp Arthur’s balls, to jostle them in a rough warm palm. Arthur moaned, swaying a little at the assault, but hands held him firmly upright, and Dinadan tightened an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, whispering, ‘I’ve got you, sire. We’ve got you…’

‘Yes,’ Arthur whispered. ‘Yes…’

Then someone was kneeling behind him, hands secure on his hips, mouth trailing wetly down across his buttocks, and Arthur’s ears were full of quiet moans and heavy breaths, a sighing _sire…_ and a yearning groan, even as a certain man servant chuckled low in amusement.

Arthur shot a defiant look at him, wanting Merlin to understand, to let him have this, to –

_By the gods…_

Merlin laughed again, fondly, as Arthur gasped in shock. A tongue was rasping across that most private of places, that place no one had _dared_ touch since Arthur was a babe too young to possess dignity or memory – a tongue rasping moist and rough against that most tender skin – once in a quick exploratory way, twice now taking its time, thrice boldly – and then the tongue tip was suddenly hard and wriggling at the entrance to him – and Arthur groaned, he _groaned needily_ , damn it, his body surrendering before his mind could catch up.

But they all paused, and Arthur glanced wildly around at the men surrounding him – it must be Pellinore back there – and Dinadan shaped a hand to his face and said, ‘You must tell us, sire, if we go too far.’

And he couldn’t he _couldn’t_ agree to this, but _god_ he wanted it – and Dinadan must have read all that from the mute plea on his face, for he nodded first at Arthur and then at the others, not forcing him to say anything though a lesser man might have insisted on hearing his consent – and Dinadan leaned in again to nuzzle at Arthur’s throat, and the other five all resumed their attentions with hands and mouths – no, the other four now, for young Theodore had fallen back to lie sprawled there on the forest floor, his hand shoved down into his own britches working away hard, and his wide–eyed gaze taking them all in.

Arthur’s gaze was just as wide, he feared, when he turned it upon Merlin – whose head was lying back tucked against Bedivere’s shoulder, with Bedivere’s hand slowly doing for Merlin what Theodore was energetically doing for himself – but Merlin’s half–lidded enigmatic gaze was still fixed upon Arthur, and he seemed to be carefully taking in every detail – for even as Pellinore’s tongue pushed hard and wet into Arthur, Merlin echoed Arthur’s gasp.

Hands encouraged his thighs further apart, and he shifted his stance, lifted an arm around Dinadan’s broad shoulders, and Dinadan obligingly took his weight, slipping his own arm around Arthur’s waist now, and leaning in close to steal a full–blooded kiss. Ryance slid the flat of his tongue up Arthur’s cock, and then reluctantly made way for Gareth – whose attentions were at first almost _too_ enthusiastic – even as Theodore finished with a shout, Arthur groaned in protest, not yet ready for this to end – and Ryance still knelt there by Gareth, soothing him, muttering in his ear, slowing him down. While Pellinore –

While Pellinore – obviously far too eager to let convention cause him any qualms – slid a finger up into Arthur with one long steady move, and then kept tonguing around the flesh while that finger thrust in and out. It was _that_ easy. Arthur welcomed the invasion, wondering at himself. Being thoroughly debauched by his knights. And he began imagining that this might go all the way, that they might take this to the logical conclusion. Though it was forbidden, of course. It would be sacrilege. Arthur had never been told outright, but he’d known somehow – it was received wisdom, common knowledge – that a prince might possess whomsoever he chose, but he must never allow himself to be possessed. It just wasn’t done.

And yet he wanted it. And Pellinore had already been so unutterably bold. And it had been so easy! The very few times Arthur had possessed a man or a woman in this fashion, he had been aware that he was causing pain. He wondered if that would be true for himself as well, if he were to do the unthinkable and accept something more than a finger within himself…

As if sensing Arthur’s thoughts, on the next thrust Pellinore slid a second finger in along with the first – and Arthur groaned as his thighs trembled, and suddenly he wasn’t so certain on his feet, and he was very aware of the hands and strong arms that were holding him upright – and Dinadan was murmuring again, ‘I’ve got you, sire, I’ve got you safe,’ even as he and Ryance exchanged glances, the two older knights knowing that this was perhaps beginning to go too far. ‘Sire…?’ Dinadan asked.

Arthur was full of yearnings and full of misgivings all at once, part of him begging _Please…_ while another part protested _Insolence!_ And even Dinadan and Ryance didn’t know what to do about such contradictions.

But then Bedivere said, low and clear though he and Merlin were seated halfway across the clearing, ‘Merlin has the right. The prince has given Merlin the right.’

At which Merlin moaned in need, rolling his head away against Bedivere’s shoulder, though he was honest enough to say, ‘No. No, he hasn’t.’ A fine time for Merlin to show scruples.

Of all the things Arthur could do now, it was the thing most forbidden, with the person most inappropriate – yet of all the things he could do, it was what he wanted most. ‘Yes,’ Arthur countermanded. ‘He has.’

And suddenly Arthur was being scooped up into Ryance’s strong arms, being carried over to where Bedivere was freeing Merlin’s long hard cock from his britches – Merlin looking a bit panicked for a moment, staring at him pale–faced, and asking, ‘Arthur…?’

‘Yes,’ Arthur repeated. ‘It’s all right.’

And he was being lowered to straddle Merlin’s thighs, kneeling, facing his man servant who was allowing Bedivere to arrange his clothes and his limbs, just as Arthur was allowing the other men to – to – _god!_ lift him again, and settle him onto that long cock, and his own weight did the work, he just slid down onto Merlin with a guttural groan, and for the first time in his _life_ he belonged to another, or his body did, at least – and Merlin was chanting his name under his breath, chanting nonsense in his astonishment, and his fingers dug into Arthur’s thighs _hard_ while Bedivere groaned his own nonsense into Merlin’s ear, his arms tightening as he rocked, rutting against Merlin’s back.

Pellinore was almost weeping with frustrated _wanting_ , but Dinadan shoved his own britches down his thighs, and offered his rear for Pellinore’s use – an offer which was taken without much thought or care, and Pellinore stared hard at Arthur and Merlin’s possession of him while he thrust within his friend, while Dinadan bit at his lower lip in a grimace of pain, but also watched Arthur, perhaps finding some solace in the sight.

And the others were raising Arthur and lowering him, he hardly need do anything except lean back within Ryance’s arms and let it happen, and Merlin was the same though he was tense while Arthur was nothing more than compliant flesh – and the others all watched keenly, pleasuring themselves or each other – Arthur’s cock rocking stiffly with each move until Gareth finally leaned in and took Arthur into his mouth, suckling like a desperate newborn –

– and within moments Arthur was crying out, and pouring his seed down Gareth’s throat – and suddenly he wasn’t relaxed at all, but instead clutched hard at Merlin’s cock within him in this intense kind of pleasurable pain – and then Merlin was coming, his body arching up and his head thrown back, driving himself home with a shout, while Bedivere held him close and called him beautiful.

For lovely long warm moments Arthur was cradled in Ryance’s arms while the others finished and finally settled in several ungainly lumps and sprawls on the forest floor. But eventually they each returned to themselves, and there was some discomfort, some blushing and uncertainty. The knights began stirring, putting himself to rights again. Pellinore seemed mortified, but Dinadan soothed him, and eventually Arthur reached a hand towards Pellinore, who kissed it gratefully – and Arthur returned the gesture, lifting Pellinore’s hand to his own lips. And after that, each of the knights made the same gesture, bowing their heads low over their prince’s hand, and kissing it, and feeling the honour of Arthur’s kiss in return.

Then at last as the others trailed away back towards their camp, Bedivere let Merlin go, and Ryance gently settled Arthur beside him – and with a nod to Ryance, Merlin took Arthur into his arms, as if to say it was all right, he’d take care of the prince now.

♦

And it _was_ all right. That was the strange thing. Arthur had never felt so satisfied, so satiated. So loved. With his head on his man servant’s narrow chest, and encircled by slim arms. With Merlin eventually asking, ‘Are you cold, Arthur? I’ll fetch your clothes,’ but of course being too lazy and too content to budge even the smallest amount.

‘You meant it then,’ Arthur observed.

‘What’s that?’

‘You meant it when you said you’d still be here.’

‘Of course.’ Merlin almost sounded scornful that he could be doubted on this point. ‘I should think I’ll always be here at your side, Arthur. It’s my doom, or something.’

‘There’s no need to sound so happy about it!’

‘My fate, then. Is that better?’

‘It’s your destiny,’ Arthur amended.

And Merlin stared at him with a puzzled frown for a long moment, before gathering Arthur in more closely still, absently pressing a kiss to his temple, and murmuring, ‘Yes. My destiny.’

‘Good,’ said Arthur. And it was settled.

♦


End file.
